Because of Me
by Fyre Melody
Summary: Because of me, the walls between worlds were shattered. Because of me, the war was begun. Because of me, the course of human events were forever altered. Because of me, a hero was lost forever. Because of me, the lives of those I held dearest were lost.
1. Ginny

Because of Me

x x x

Ginny

_You always think that, after six years of knowing someone, you really **know** them; what makes them happy, what makes them crazy, who or what they love, and who or what they can't stand. I always thought that I knew who she was after three hours, and that the other two-thousand-and-ninety-three days and twenty-one hours were merely time to spend being with her. I mean, honestly, Hermione Granger didn't seem like the most difficult person to understand; she was a teenage girl like me, she attended to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry like me, and she was in love with my best friend... like me. I guess I figured that we were exactly alike. As it turned out, I figured wrong._

_Although it had obviously been going on for quite some time, I only first noticed it during her sixth year. It was the week before the winter holidays, and, I'll admit, most off the school was acting off. Hermione was just acting a bit more off than the rest of us. She was often cloistered away in some empty classroom or elsewhere in the school, "studying," as she told me. To her credit, it was a good excuse. She **did** have the NEWTs to prepare for at the end of the year. But the only flaw in her plan came in the fact that she had been studying for the NEWTs since she could first read. And that, even blind and half-dead, Hermione could pass any test, magical or not, without even breaking a sweat. I mean, the girl did nothing but study. This was her only free day of the year, and even she knew better than to blow it with some musty old book._

_It was dinner, the last day of classes before the halls would empty and students would return home to spend Christmas with their families, and the atmosphere was a splendid mix of anxiety and gaiety. Hagrid had decorated the Great Hall a few days before, and the large tree in the center of the room spread both its scent and warmth throughout. We were all at the Gryffindor table, ready to spend our last meal together for the next three weeks. But Hermione, the fourth member of our small group, was not there. We always occupied one end of the table; the furthest from the door, in the Northernmost corner of the Hall. We were closest to the professors, yes, but we were also the furthest away one could possibly get from the Slytherins._

_It was nice, being surrounded by the people I was closest to. Ron, with our family's inherent fiery hair and temper to match it, sat to my right where he was animatedly engaging Harry in a discussion about the Chudley Cannons. Harry, the boy who had survived numerous battles with the world's most powerful dark wizard and was still alive to enjoy talks such as these, was across from me, waving his fork as he explained some Quidditch play to Ron. I can honestly say that is one of the happiest, most treasured memories I have: eating dinner and watching the two men, one I loved as my treasured older brother and the other I loved with all my heart, having as frivolous a discussion as to whether or not you could catch a Snitch after performing a Edinazel Evasion in the rain._

_I don't know why I chose to leave the table at that moment, why I chose that day of all of them to go looking for Hermione. And still, to this day, I can't decide if things may have been different if I **hadn't** picked that fateful day to satisfy my curiosity. I can only suffer through the guilt that they might have been..._

"Ron!" A tall, gangly young man with fiery red hair and a shock of freckles, turned at the feminine voice calling his name just in time to catch a snowball with his face. He reached one gloved hand up to wipe the melting frost from his eyes and glared, quite fiercely, at the laughing girl. Her chocolate brown eyes sparkled against cheeks rosined by the cold, and her long and curly mane of brown hair was held back with a pair of fuzzy earmuffs. She grinned, white teeth standing out in sharp contrast to her pink face and maroon-and-gold scarf, before laughing again. "Happy Christmas, Ron. That's just a little something to remember me by for the next three weeks."

His eyes softened and he smiled warmly, gazing at her as if she were the thing on earth most precious to him. Tenderly, he drew her against his side in a one-armed hug. "You know I could never forget you, Hermione." A handful of freezing slush slid down the back of her shirt as Ron dashed off, grinning deviously. "No matter how hard I tried." She yelped at the sensation that was now trickling its way down her bare skin and chased after him, lobbing large clumps of snow in retaliation. The ensuing snowball fight was fierce in its intensity, if not childish in its principle. Across the clearing, two figures looked up from their more sedate snowman to watch the battle.

"Honestly, will those two ever grow up?" Ginny grinned at the sight of her older brother - the one she privately considered to be her favorite of all her many siblings - losing a snowball fight to a petite girl who was more at home in a library. Still, their joyous laughter rang in the crisp air, proving that they, at least, were enjoying themselves.

"Those two act like an old married couple," her companion watched his friends with mock seriousness. "Or a young one on holiday," he jokingly added. Harry winked roguishly at Ginny, causing her face to flush with heat despite the near to freezing temperature. She looked away quickly, silently cursing herself for letting herself be affected so much by his proximity.

To distract herself, Ginny stood and sprinted over to tackle her brother, attacking him with a pile of snow she dropped on his head. Ron yelled out in agony as the girls, giggling, proceeded to bury him. They fled when he finally shook them off and, as Ron pursued an amused Ginny, Hermione came to join Harry.

"I don't know about you, Harry, but I'm looking forward to some cocoa and a change of clothes." Hermione, although the proclaimed victor of the Great Snowball War, was soaking wet and shivering uncontrollably as she reached him. Easily, he slipped out of his down jacket and slid it over her shoulders, rubbing her arms to warm her. "Ron, Ginny! We're heading inside!" When neither of them came over to join the pair, she turned and began to march back to the castle.

"Well, Hermione, look's as though it's just us." Harry slung a companionable arm around the girl's shoulder and pulled her close, walking back up to Hogwarts with her. Despite public opinion, the two were not madly in love, nor would they ever be. Their relationship was one of a brother and sister who had never had a real sibling to support them or torture them. They were, in some ways, the only true family the other had; Harry an orphan and Hermione the only magically inclined Granger in history. And, as they had promised each other years before, nothing would ever tear them apart.

x x x

"Has anyone seen Hermione?" Ron tore his gaze from the mass of students enjoying their last night together for next month and turned to his friends, raising an eyebrow quizzically. They were already tucking into the treacle pudding at the end of the meal, and Hermione had still not joined them at the Gryffindor table. _Please tell me she's not off on another of her "SPEW" tirades and boycotting food again._

Harry stopped his chatter about Quidditch, which they had been discussing only seconds before, and looked around in surprise. "She hasn't come in yet?" He looked up and down the length of the long table and, sure enough, no familiar bush of coffee-coloured hair caught his eye. "That's odd. She told me she was going to change into dry clothes and meet me here for dinner..."

Ron narrowed his eyes, glaring suspiciously. "She told _me _that she would be late for dinner because she was studying..." It slowly dawned on them that perhaps, but just perhaps, she had lied to them and was elsewhere in the castle, neither studying nor changing her clothes.

Harry sighed thoughtfully, then looked across from him, startled. "Where'd Ginny get off to?"

Ron waved his hand impatiently. "Who cares? I want to know where Hermione disappeared off to and why she doesn't want us to join her."

x x x

Ginny, who had left the table earlier in order to take a more active approach in finding their missing friend, wandered the corridors of Hogwarts. In any normal castle of this size, one could spend weeks searching the many rooms and towers for a person. In this particular castle, and all of the enchantments and hidden halls, it could take years. _In fact_, she thought grimly as she peeked into an empty Transfiguration classroom, _if someone in this school did not want to be found, they would not be_. The room, as she had expected, was quite empty. "Hermione... where would you want to hide?" She laughed suddenly as the conclusion, so simple that she was amazed it took her this long to come across it, reached her mind.

She turned and headed for the Gryffindor tower, walking more confidently. Who was to say that Hermione _wasn't_ studying or changing her clothes? Maybe the conspiracy of her lying and hiding had only been in the boys' minds. She reached the portrait of the Fat Lady and smiled brightly, curtseying in greeting. "Good evening. _Cerdd Nos_, if you please." The Lady smiled in return and obligingly swung open, allowing the young girl access to the warm, friendly, red-and-gold common room she loved so. Passing the stairs to the boys' and girls' dormitories, which were to her immediate left, she went straight to the tower reserved for the House Prefects. Bounding up the stairs, she slowed at the top.

The door to Hermione's room was shut.

Now, although she was fanatical about studying and enjoyed her privacy as much as the next, Hermione _never_ shut her door against the friends who would drop by to join her. Unless she was naked, in which case she would leave a towel tucked through the door handle to let Harry or Ron or Ginny or whomever it may be that she would soon be out. But now, no matter how hard Ginny searched in the darkness, there was no towel; no sign anywhere that Hermione was even inside. Until she noticed the line of light seeping out from beneath the oak and iron barrier. Softly, she crept over to the door and nudged it lightly with a knuckle. It swung inward of its own accord, alleviating her from any guilt of forced entry.

She tiptoed in and froze, embarrassed, as she saw the two figures entwined under the scarlet sheets. The larger of the two, obviously male, was lying on his back, one arm pillowing his head and the other wrapped possessively around Hermione's waist. Hermione, equally asleep and naked as the male whose identity was not clear from Ginny's angle, lay against his side, her head resting on his bare chest. It was obvious, and frighteningly so, that the two were lovers. Red-faced and thoroughly uncomfortable with walking in on such a compromising situation, Ginny turned to exit the room. Her trainers, as worn as they were, must have made some noise on the floorboards, for she heard the slumbering male roust and begin to move.

Panicked, she ran for the door and was just about to pull it shut when she heard him speak. "Wake up, 'Mione. I'm losing the feeling in my arm." Even though it was through an inch of solid wood, and even though she was most distressed by the situation, there was no mistaking _that_ voice. It was sleek and smooth, but was usually as harsh and bitter as the man it belonged to. It was that voice that Ginny dreaded the day for, that voice that took it upon itself to remind her of her family's class, every single day. It was that voice that she had first learned to hate listening to. Fiercely, she managed to hiss it out through disbelieving lips.

"_Malfoy_."

x x x

_Even now, even after the years that have bled past me, that day will remain forever engraved in my mind. Because that day was the moment that started it all; the day that set into motion events that would change the world forever. My life, as well of the lives of more people than I care to think about, have been both shaped and destroyed by my petty, fifteen-year-old need to know everything. And all I did was open a bloody door._

_Because of me, the walls between worlds were shattered._


	2. Ron

Because of Me

x x x

Ron

_It's odd, really, to go through life as part of a collective identity. Even more difficult to determine where **you** begin and where the influences of so many brothers end. I was, with the exception of an unfortunate younger sister who had both the misfortune of being born seventh and the privilege of being born different, the youngest of five brothers, all seemingly identical, despite the differences in age or personality. Despite her status as youngest, however, Ginny had it easiest. She was youngest, yes, but she was the **girl**. I think, at some point in our lives, we all envied her for that simple, mundane difference; she was not "Weasely Brother Number Six," as I had been. She was always "Ginny," set aside as special both by name and gender. I envied her for that small bit of self-identity, we all did – except maybe Fred and George, who were so caught up in stealing the other's identity that they forgot to look for their own. But none of us could ever be her, even if we truly had wanted to, so we set about our own ways of standing out._

_Bill was the smart one, smarter even than Percy – though you would never have known it because he wasn't as vain as Percy was – the one who was Head Boy and got top marks and set the standard far too high for being eldest. Of course, Charlie rose to the occasion quite happily, becoming the family Quidditch star, the family's athlete and flier – and he truly was amazing at it, even though flying with a broom could never quite satisfy him... him and his dragons... Percy was the one who we knew would change the world. For better or for worse (probably the latter), Percy would be the one to change the very structure of our society – he was the opinionated, outspoken one. Fred and George became the family pranksters, the family clowns, the ones who would go to any lengths for fun and laughs. And Ginny was the girl. So, after five brothers seeking a name for themselves other than the one we all shared, what then was left for me? Other than being the sidekick of The Boy Who Lived and the brother of the Brain, the Star, the Politician, and the Pranksters, that is._

_There was her. She was all of them, rolled into one, and she was the only thing I had that had never been handed down from one of the many brothers before me. She was as smart as Bill, as daring as Charlie, as outspoken as Percy, as fun as the twins, except that she was my friend, not theirs. She was the first thing I had that was truly **mine**. And she was mine, even if we weren't officially together. She was my hero, my best friend, my voice of reason, my everything. And, despite being an insufferable know it all at times with a odd determination to free all house elves, she was perfect. I had loved her since I had first realised that girls could be more than just a friend or a sister._

_I only assumed she felt the same way – we all only assumed. But we should have known that Hermione Granger could never be predicted, could never be typecast into any sort of traditional role. She defied everything – except perhaps rules, that was our job, Harry and I – by being both so incredibly smart and so naïve at the same time; what she lacked in practical magical knowledge, she made up for in the technical. But she was perfect, in my eyes, and once upon a time my very world revolved around her. It was decidedly just that my world ended around her as well..._

Ginny returned to the table, seemingly well, if not a bit white in the cheeks, and sat across from Harry again as if nothing were wrong; as if everything she had previously believed in had not shattered. The boys, who had continued their discussion of Quidditch in her short absence – Boys, she thought with frustrated fondness – looked up with interest when she settled. "Where's Hermione?"

Ginny shrugged and reached for a goblet of pumpkin juice, her mind made up that, not matter how much she disagreed with it, she would not betray her friend's secret; not before first confronting Hermione. "I couldn't find her," was the evasive answer, which Ron immediately accepted because he never much paid attention to what his younger sister said, and which Harry believed because he never expected Ginny to lie. They settled back into the familiarity of Quidditch, promptly forgetting that she existed outside of her occasional commentary or asking her friend to pass the treacle.

Hermione joined them halfway through dessert.

Harry and Ron greeted her with their usual smiles and hugs, and Ron scooted over on the bench to make room for her – next to him, of course. And Hermione, equally as usual, said her 'hellos how have you been' without a flicker of deceit crossing her features. Ginny could not even look at her friend, not without seeing her tangled in an embrace with her enemy. The others couldn't see it; they were always so wrapped up in their own lives, so self-involved that they could never even pretend to see the subtle differences. Hermione was quieter, more relaxed and fluid both in speech and movement, but hesitant and weary, as though the toll of her lies were wearing down on her. After everything she had witnessed previously, only to return to this mundane, maddening normality, Ginny wanted to scream.

Hermione turned to her, a warm smiling crossing her face. "Have they been discussing Quidditch all night? Sorry I left you alone for that." It was sincere and friendly, and nothing she wanted to hear right now.

"Not a problem." Hollow words, a reflexive response, and then the image of the lovers flared in her mind. It was suffocating, being so near what she had once considered the only person she would ever trust inexplicably. "I... I have to go." In a swirl of red hair and black robes she hurried out of the hall, rushing through the doors and immediately slamming into Draco Malfoy, who was only just sauntering in.

"Watch it, Weasel," his sneer was as cold and cruel as she remembered, and she felt a renewed hatred towards him and his family, and now for Hermione, for betraying them for someone like him.

Perhaps it was the anger, or perhaps only a moment of seized madness, but she did not lower her gaze and scuttle off to Neville or Harry like she normally did. Instead, she met his gaze and, placing both hands on his chest, shoved him backwards against the stairs – he fell into a sitting position, momentarily stunned. "SHUT UP! Just shut up! Leave me alone!" She was oblivious to the crowd that had gathered, focused on Hermione, who had shouldered to the front with Ron and Harry. "Tell him to leave us alone, Hermione." Her voice was low, rough, and a nervous crowd tiptoed away rather than be privy to her wrath.

Brown eyes widened fractionally; Hermione Granger was, for once in her life, confused. "Why me, Ginny? Why do you think he would listen to me over you?" She smiled, desperate to change the direction of the conversation. "Honestly-"

_"Because you're bloody sleeping with him!"_ The brown eyes widened fully, shock that she knew and hurt that she would tell, and Ginny's hands flew to her mouth; she had not meant for her secret to come out that way. Her eyes filled with tears, and she shook her head from side to side, near hysterical. "Hermione, I'm sorry, I didn't mean... I didn't mean to tell everyone... I am so sorry." She was surprised to learn that she was, in fact, sorry for her outburst, when only minutes before she was fully prepared to shout it to the entire nation; they had been through so much for petty anger... or justified hatred, as this had been, to rip them apart.

"Hermione?" Ginny had almost forgotten Harry's presence, but his soft voice suddenly reminded her. They both turned to look at him, really look at him, and saw for once not a hero, but a young man, scared and confused. His eyes were soft, the shade of green they turned when he was emotionally exhausted, and Ginny immediately felt guilt that she had put that look there, and that after everything to happen to him in his life, she had taken away his only remaining family. "Hermione... what is she talking about?" His voice softened and he was a boy once more, looking with wide, pleading eyes at Hermione. She couldn't even meet his gaze, instead looking towards Draco, who slumped on the stairs, defeated. No one spoke, caught up in this eerie pantomime.

The sound of a loud slap broke the silence, and then Ginny was staggering backwards, clutching her cheek.

"_Liar_." Ron's voice was dangerous, more than they had ever heard, and his eyes had sharpened to a fierce hatred not even Draco had seen before. There was a new silence, as Ron advanced towards her again, and then the spell shattered in a flurry of motion and noise, like they were suddenly released from what had bound them there. Ginny, sobbing, spun away from her brother and ran for the stairs, pushing past Draco as he hastened to rise. Harry followed her, sparing only a moment to glare at Ron and lightly brush Hermione's arm as he rushed past, a silent 'I don't understand or approve of this; we'll talk later.' Draco disappeared in the commotion, slinking off to his rooms rather than interfere – after all, this was between the Golden Trio (and sister), not him. Which left Hermione and Ron, staring daggers at each other in the entryway.

"She shouldn't have said that about you."

"Yes, she should have. She was right."

Ron nearly broke, and everything that had made him Ron in the past just left his eyes, leaving a cold husk. "Oh."

She went towards him, holding an arm out to embrace him – perhaps. "Ron, I-"

"Whore!" He was out of the castle before the hurt could even register in her eyes.

x x x

He would never have found her without Myrtle's help, which he never expected but was grateful for, as she directed him to the broom closet on the second floor. She was curled into a tight ball beneath the shelves, seemingly dwarfed by her robes and the grief that choked the air. She didn't even notice when he came in, nor did she notice when he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against his chest. It was the better part of ten minutes before she even noticed whose shirt she had been clutching and sobbing into. "Sorry," she attempted, but it came out more of a pathetic sniffle.

He smiled fondly before cupping her cheek. "Does it hurt?"

"Not anymore." She leaned into his hand, unconsciously seeking the warmth and rubbing against it like a cat. "I was more shocked than hurt, I suppose." She drew away from him sharply, the guilt once against rising over her head like a mantle. "I'm sorry... about Hermione."

The eyes flickered for a moment, then he was all concern once more for her well-being. "Not your fault." When she started to sob again he drew her into an embrace, surprising both with a soft kiss to the forehead.

x x x

"Hey." Hermione tiptoed into Draco's prefect room, separate from the rest of the Slytherin Tower, glancing at the young man sprawled spread-eagled on the bed. His eyes were closed, but he was awake, she knew; the lines around his eyes were never present when he was asleep, nor the stern set to his jaw. When he slept, which was rarely nowadays, with all that was happening, he was able to find peace. When he was sleeping, or when she was with him. She crawled across the bed to lay beside him, nestling against his side. "Sorry about ruining your reputa-"

"Don't." He didn't open his eyes, but he did move his arm to wrap it around her waist. They sat in silence, both tense and comfortable, and Hermione had a brief thought; she had just given up her oldest friend for a man who, although close, in ways, she barely knew. He was a mystery, even to her. A single tear slid down her cheek, only to be wiped away by a thumb.

He still hadn't opened his eyes.

One of his usual half-smirks crossed his face and, in that drawling tone, managed, "Call me Yoko." Half laughing, half sobbing, she threw her arms around him and wept herself to sleep.

x x x

He wandered for awhile, lost, before he found himself in London. He wasn't exactly sure how he had made it there, wasn't sure of anything anymore, but he remembered a violently purple bus... a ride that left him dizzy... and running out on Hermione's pain filled eyes. Life, madness, fluttered within his brain like butterflies, and with a single, amused thought, he realized that he could no longer tell what was real. That man there, across the street? He looked a bit like Hermione, and like himself... their son? What could have been, had it not been for Draco? A figment of his mind, or some eerie coincidence?

Hate.

He had never known hate like this, this feeling that coiled like a serpent in his chest, tugged like invisible demons at the ends of his hair. He had hated Draco in the past, yes, but the sheer magnitude of emotion felt now dwarfed even that. He hated. He hated... himself.

"What have I _done?_"

A frazzled mind replayed the events in his mind. Striking his sister, reaching out and making contact with his only sister, his favourite sibling, his friend. She would never forgive him for that, nor did he want her to. Sudden clarity struck him like an explosion in the night: I am not a worthy man. I am not a good man. Betraying Hermione, shattering their bond and tearing her apart with a few words, his friend, his hero, his love. I am not a worthy man, he thought, and I never deserved her. With a start, he found that he had climbed the tower of London Bridge. "I can see eternity," even his voice sounded older, weary. He felt lighter now with his epiphany, that mankind would be better off without him.

He felt so light, he was sure he would fly.

And fly he did, consumed by hatred and gold fire, before the lifeless body plunged into the Thames.

x x x

_It's funny, that only now do I look back on my actions and see how utterly selfish they were. Rather than think about those events, think about anything and trying to coolly sort out the feelings plaguing my mind, I thought only of myself. And, in choosing to think only of myself, I endangered wizards everywhere; brought to end millennia of hiding from Muggles. Perhaps it is best I was not alive to see my handiwork._

Because of me, the war was begun.


End file.
